As If We Never Said Goodbye
by Chezka
Summary: After a devastating break-up, Rachel and Quinn are leading very different lives. Quinn is a successful lawyer and Rachel is a single-mother waitressing tables to make ends meet. Ten years on, when they least expect it, their paths cross again.
1. Chapter 1

"You're late." Tracy said as Rachel charged through the backdoor of the kitchen, frantically tossing her coat over the counter.

"I know, I'm so sorry. My bus was delayed." Rachel panted, clipping her name tag to the front of her black and white waitressing uniform. Tracy handed the brunette a serving tray and a clean apron.

"Listen, it's a full-house tonight so I need you focused, okay?" Her boss said.

Rachel nodded quickly. She began tying up the apron.

"What's the function again?" Rachel asked.

Tracy shrugged. "God knows. Some stuffy rich crowd - a retirement party I think." She mumbled, running a hand through her greying hair.

"Remember, just pour the wine, laugh at their jokes, smile, and maybe tonight we'll get out of here on time for once." Her boss huffed, glancing at her watch.

Tracy was a good boss. Sure, she could be a little rough around the edges at times, but Rachel had grown to like her over the years. Tracy had two sons and a brother she was trying to put through college. And like Rachel, she was a single mother with no margin for error, and zero time to complain about crappy, underpaid waitressing jobs like this one. Rachel liked that she understood how tough it could be as an only parent, especially on minimum wage.

"Okay, take these drinks out to the cocktail lounge." Tracy instructed.

"Sure." Rachel said, quickly patting her hair down to keep it in place.

The brunette took the tray out through the swinging doors and was instantly hit with the buzzing of conversation, the laughter and soft piano playing across the bar. A chandelier hung from the ceiling and flowers had been arranged around the room. The silverware gleamed, the tablecloths were blindingly white.

Rachel glided around the room, as she usually did, smiling and listening occasionally to the piano softly filling the room. Rachel recognised the tune instantly. It was _'I'm Through With Love_ ' in the style of Ella Fitzgerald's 1960s cover. Apart from at work, Rachel hardly ever listened to music. In fact, most of the time she actively avoided it. Nowadays it only made her heart break at the memory of those long-held dreams she had in high school, back when anything was possible, back when she thought singing was her destiny, her fate. How wrong she was.

The guests seemed to be really enjoying the drinks, some of them going as far as to complement Rachel even though she honestly had nothing to do with it. She smiled nonetheless, exhaustion making her thoughts blurry. She'd worked almost sixty hours this week and desperately needed some rest. Rachel picked up a few empty glasses off the tables and carried them swiftly back through the swinging kitchen doors. As she set the tray back down, Tracy flew past her, pushing a trolley of plates and glasses.

"Hey, kid, you got a call." She told her.

"Oh, right. Thanks, Tracy." The brunette replied, and ducked swiftly over to the telephone.

"Hello?"

"Mama?" A voice sang out.

"Hey baby girl," Rachel cooed, "how are you doing?"

"Good, Mama."

"Have you had your bath?"

"Uh-huh"

"Brushed your teeth?

"Yup."

"And are you being a good girl for Mrs Ryerson?"

"Uh-huh." Spencer said. "We had meatballs and spaghetti for dinner. Mrs Ryerson says she makes a special sauce with peanut butter in it."

"Peanut butter?! Your favourite!" Rachel gasped. "You're a lucky girl, aren't you?"

Rachel beamed at the sound of her daughter's soft, delighted, giggle over the phone. Spencer had just turned eight four days ago and Rachel was still picking up extra shifts to try and cover the presents she'd bought the girl. They didn't have much, but Rachel managed to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. They might've gone without a lot of things over the years, but one thing they weren't short on was love. Rachel was crazy about her little girl and Spencer just adored her mother. They did everything together and Rachel wouldn't have it any other way.

"Okay, honey well you better put Mrs Ryerson back on the line, okay? Mama will be home in a couple of hours okay, sweetie?"

"Okay, Mommy. Love you." Spencer mumbled.

Rachel grinned. "Love you too, peanut."

There was a brief crackle over the line as Spencer handed the phone over, then Mrs Ryerson's voice rang out, "I thought I might make her some warm milk before she goes to bed, that's okay isn't it?"

"Of course." Rachel replied. "Thank you again for watching her, honestly, what would I do without you?"

"Oh, suffer endlessly I imagine." The old woman laughed down the phone. "No, honestly, dear, it's no trouble at all. We've just had dinner and I'm about to read a bedtime story."

"Thank you. I shouldn't be much longer, Mrs Ryerson, I promise." Rachel said.

"No need to thank me, dear, that little girl is an absolute pleasure. And please, honey, call me Vicky. Mrs Ryerson sounds like my mother." The woman said.

Thank God for this woman, Rachel thought. Mrs Ryerson was a sixty-two year old retired hairdresser who lived opposite Rachel, on the same floor. She had come to think of the woman as a kind of mother figure, especially having had three children of her own. And Rachel had to admit, she was one of the only few friends the brunette had made since moving to Indiana. She owed her a lot. Mrs Ryerson had saved her countless times by offering to watch Spencer while she worked.

"Okay," Rachel chuckled. "Thank you so much, Vicki."

"I'll see you soon, honey." Her neighbour said.

"Okay. I'll be home soon. Bye."

The line disconnected and Rachel put the receiver back on the wall.

"Hey, kid!" Tracy barked at her from across the kitchen. Rachel hurried over to her boss who was putting several ice cream sundaes onto a tray.

"They want dessert now, think you could hand these out for me?" Her boss said.

"Sure," Rachel answered, taking the tray from the older woman.

"Make sure you don't miss a table, okay?"

Rachel nodded her head, carrying the tray out once again into the function room. The previous song had stopped now and the pianist was now playing ' _My one and Only Love_ '. Some of the guests had started slow-dancing on the ballroom floor and Rachel couldn't help but feel her heart clench a little watching people so blissfully happy and in-love. Rachel loved her daughter and knew she would never love anything as much as her little girl, but now and then, like when she was watching people kiss in the park or hold hands in the street she couldn't help but feel a little envious. That something was missing. But then, in a second, the thought evaporated. She couldn't let herself focus on it.

"Hey! Are those chocolate sundaes?" A balding, heavyset man called to Rachel from across the room.

"Uh, yes, sir. Would you care for one?" The brunette said, as politely as she could.

"Absolutley, sweetheart." His lips peeled back over yellow, decaying teeth.

Rachel held the tray out for the man and then disappeared quickly into the crowd. She didn't want to linger around in case he offered any conversation. She strolled over to the piano and set the tray down to re-adjust her apron. Then, at that exact moment, Rachel felt something come over her. She inhaled a certain scent, a strong scent. It was perfume; a kind of floral, sweet, citrus perfume, like watermelon and grapefruit, or fresh pansies. She didn't know why, but the scent lit electricity down her spine. For a second Rachel could have sworn the smell was familiar. As if it had followed her from a dream somewhere, from another life. It smelt expensive and exotic; but that was hardly unusual at these dinners, all the women in the room were decked out in their thousand dollar ballgowns, their shinning pearls and three-inch heels. Rachel guessed that just _one_ of those dresses could cover her rent for months.

The brunette tried to put her mind on something else. She focused on the task at hand - serving deserts to more greying, old businessmen in their three piece suits. Most of the time the guests hardly noticed her, that was one thing the brunette liked about the job - she was virtually faceless, just part of the furniture, a fixture. Completely anonymous. Rachel liked it that way. She liked being able to slip in and out of people's worlds, unnoticed and unseen.

She headed back round the other side of the bar. Several people had gotten up from their tables now so the room was even more crowded. Rachel weaved her way across the sea of dresses and suits. She stopped to clear a few empty glasses off the bar and again that sharp, heavy perfume carried across the room. It was intoxicating. Heavenly. The smell hung like a fog in Rachel's brain, clouding all other thought. It was strange. Rachel couldn't shake the feeling that she knew that scent from somewhere. It was so overwhelmingly familiar, so delightfully sweet and fresh. Yes, she thought, she was _sure_ she remembered it, but she still couldn't place where it was from.

As Rachel continued weaving around the room, she couldn't help but pick up some snatches of conversation: a girlish laugh, a booming voice.

"Sounds great, I should introduce you too." A man said.

Rachel handed out another sundae to an older woman in the corner of the room. She took it with a smile.

"Ah, there you are Miss Fabray!" A voice exclaimed.

Rachel felt all the breath slip out of her. Miss Fabray. Miss _Fabray_. It couldn't be, could it? Surely not, Rachel told herself. It was just the same surname that's all. It must be common. Rachel went on serving dessert, but her hands, holding the tray, had started trembling.

"Jack, allow me to introduce you to my colleague Miss Quinn Fabray."

 _Dear. God._

Panic surged through the brunette's body so fast it made her head spin. She felt her heart thumping erratically in her chest, as if it had just been woken up by something. The brunette lowered her head towards the floor and quickly tried to shuffle away from the crowd, but there were too many people. Don't turn around, She told herself. Just keep going and don't turn around. But the mention of that name, the memory of the girl, of Quinn, buzzed like a fly in her brain. She had to check, didn't she? Just to know. Just to be sure, she told herself. She would quickly look, make sure it wasn't her, then sprint out of the room and into the safety of the kitchen.

Slowly, Rachel lifted her eyes from the floor and as casually as she could, moved her gaze towards where the voice had come from. And sure enough, there was the girl herself. Across the piano, dressed in an emerald green, sequinned ballgown was the Lima-born blonde, ex-cheerio, smiling radiantly, sipping a glass of white wine. Rachel couldn't move, she felt as if her feet had suddenly rooted to the floor. Quinn was really here. Standing two feet in front of her, smiling, laughing, charming everyone around her.

 _What the hell is she doing here!_ Rachel screamed internally. And in an instant, for one split second, their eyes met.

 _Shit_ _._

Quinn froze for a moment. She stopped mid-conversation, the casual smile she'd been sporting a second ago evaporated like steam. And then something else came into her eyes. She furrowed her brow and stared harder at the young waitress who, she could've sworn, looked exactly like one Miss Rachel Berry.

Rachel stacked the last few empty glasses onto the silver tray and raced through the crowd at lightning speed. She kept moving, but she was painfully aware of the ex-cheerleader, behind her, hovering like a ghost from her past. Rachel managed to make it all the way to the kitchen, her heart slamming up against her ribs. She flung the door closed and stood there, breathing heavily.

Tracy walked over to the brunette and handed her an envelope.

"Okay, here's your cheque for tonight. I was suppose to give Maya hers as well, but she didn't turn up _again_ , can you believe it? I just—" Tracy stopped herself, taking in Rachel's dishevelled appearance; her shocked expression, her face as white as a sheet.

"You okay, hun? You look like you've seen a ghost." Tracy said, putting a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel nodded her head. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine…is there anything else you need me to do?" Rachel asked.

Tracy gave the kitchen a quick once-over and shook her head.

"I think we're okay. I'll just finish counting the money and lock up." She said. "You need a ride home?"

Rachel picked up her coat from the counter and turned to face her boss. "Uh, no, I think I'll be okay tonight. But thanks anyway." Rachel smiled.

The brunette headed towards the door.

"Hey, wait!" Tracy called.

Rachel turned back.

"You're apron." Tracy stated.

Rachel looked down at her wine-stained apron and quickly unfastened it. She practically tossed it over the coat hook by the door and flung her handbag over her shoulder. "Okay, bye!" Rachel sputtered out. Her breathing still shaky and laboured. Tracy nodded her head a little and proceeded to wipe down the counter.

"Alright then. See ya tomorrow, Rach!" Tracy called, but Rachel was already half way out the door, power-walking up the pavement and into the darkness.

* * *

Rachel was not even five steps down the street when she heard the distant echo of high heels on the concrete behind her. _Please, no_. Rachel silently prayed. _Please, don't let her recognise me. Dear God, tell me she didn't recognise me._

"Rachel?" An unmistakable voice rang out through the street.

The brunette tugged her coat up around her neck and frantically picked up her pace down the sidewalk.

"Rachel! …Rachel!" The voice called, louder this time.

The brunette drew a sharp breath and stopped dead in her tracks. This was it, she thought. The moment she'd been dreading. The moment she'd hoped would never happen, the moment she'd been running from for ten years was now playing out like a bad dream. She closed her eyes. Then, slowly, the brunette willed herself to move. She swivelled round on her heel only to be greeted by the very face she hadn't seen in over a decade.

"Quinn….." Rachel greeted.

The blonde stood before her, smiling in a grey woollen coat. Her face was as unchanged and as radiant as her high school days in Ohio. Rachel remembered the confident, blonde cheerio she fell in love with, but she also couldn't help but be in awe of the stunning woman standing in front of her. There were subtle changes in the way Quinn held herself. She seemed more comfortable, more relaxed and natural. The last ten years had only seemed to enhance the woman's elegant features. Her blonde hair, once cropped short and high, now curled and winded a few inches past her shoulders. Her lips were plum-red, and the furrow in her brow reminded Rachel of those old Hollywood actresses — classic beauty and charm. She was, as ever, breathtaking.

"My god…." Quinn said, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I can't believe this. _Rachel Berry._ It must be nearly…. nine years now?"

Rachel nodded sharply. "Yeah. Ten years actually." She corrected.

Quinn nodded a little but said nothing.

Rachel knew she was being cold to the blonde, but she knew too, that it was the only way she could get through the conversation without breaking down in tears. And that was _not_ going to happen. She had to retain some dignity.

Quinn smiled. Her hazel eyes were barley visible in the darkness. Of course, everything about the blonde was beautiful, but it had always been those eyes Rachel loved best. How they seemed to glitter like ripples over oil. But seeing the blonde now, her eyes seemed different than before. There was something else in Quinn's gaze that Rachel hadn't remembered; a tiredness, a sadness perhaps. As if a light had gone out in them.

"It's good to see you." Quinn breathed out. "You look wonderful, Rach."

The brunette almost felt angry at the irony of that statement; as Quinn stood before her, swathed in a seamless, fitted ballgown that had to be worth a fortune. And Rachel stood opposite, in her tattered sneakers, worn-out jeans and coat. She felt ridiculous and ashamed.

"Thanks." The brunette replied.

"So...do you live here in Indiana?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah." Rachel said. "Just for the short-term, you know."

Quinn nodded her head gently. She seemed to be searching for the right words. As if she were treading carefully around something.

"Listen, uh, I was wondering if maybe….maybe you'd like to….catch up sometime?" The blonde trailed off, her eyes shifting between Rachel and the ground.

Rachel felt her heart speed up again. She didn't know what to say. Why did Quinn want to see her after ten years, she wondered. What did they possibly have in common now? Of course, Rachel also felt that familiar pull in her heart, urging her to say yes, to run into the blonde's arms and hold her and never let go. But her brain was telling her something different. Her brain was telling her to get as far away from this as possible. _Run_ , it said, _Run while you still can_. _Run and don't look back._

Quinn was still waiting for a response. She shifted her weight to the side, leaning on her leg. Then she looked at Rachel as if she were looking at the most mysterious and complicated puzzle she'd ever seen. "You don't have to, if you'd rather not….obviously." Quinn added.

Rachel could tell Quinn was nervous.

"Well, in case you change your mind, maybe you can take my card." Quinn said, wrapping her coat a little tighter around her shoulders. Rachel gave a quick nod, and sure enough, the blonde fished out a small card from her handbag and held it out for the shorter girl to take.

Rachel turned it over in her fingers. It was the kind of card that only big, fancy businesses gave out; all professionalism and importance. It was a silver printed card with metallic blue design, and raised in gleaming gold calligraphy were the words: _MISS QUINN FABRAY: ATTORNEY AT LAW._

Rachel swallowed hard. Quinn was a lawyer. The brunette couldn't help but feel a few tears sting the back of her eyes as she thought of the blonde accomplishing her life-long dream. She felt overwhelmed with both utter happiness and utter sorrow. Quinn had always talked about law school, and now she'd gone and done it. She'd made something of her life. She'd made her dreams come true. Rachel only wished she could have said the same for herself.

"It's got my work and my regular phone number there." Quinn noted. "So you can call anytime, if you like. I'm going to be in town for a few months so…" but Quinn didn't finish. Something seemed to come into the ex-cheerleader's eyes and for a moment she just stared at the brunette, her eyes clouded over with…sadness? Joy? Rachel couldn't tell.

Then Quinn said, "Well…Goodnight, Rachel. It was wonderful to see you again." She said, so softly Rachel almost didn't hear it.

Before Rachel could even respond, the blonde had strode off down the street, her high heels snapping against the pavement as she went. Rachel stood there in the empty street, the business card still sitting between her fingers. She watched Quinn cross the road and disappear around the corner. And out of her sight once more.

 **Author's note: Well, I hope you guys liked it or are maybe a little intrigued? This is my first Faberry fic so don't judge too harshly haha :P The songs mentioned in this chapter are both Ella Fitzgerald classics (yes, I'm a huge jazz fan). Oh and for those of you who might be wondering, yes I did name Rachel's daughter Spencer after PLL's Spencer hastings...I mean, it's just a great name, right!? This might sound odd but I love names that are traditionally considered 'male' on girls...anyway, a bit of cross-over there for you! Next chapter coming soon! xx**


	2. Chapter 2

As Rachel turned her key in the lock, already she could hear Spencer's voice from the hallway.

"Mama!"

She pushed the door open as her daughter bounded across the floor in striped pyjamas.

"Hey, Sweetpea!" Her mother chirped.

Rachel scooped the girl up in her arms and pecked her on the cheek.

"I thought you'd be in bed," Rachel said.

"I was but Vicki let me stay up!"

Just then, Mrs Ryerson appeared at the kitchen bench, smiling.

"She insisted on staying up till you got home," Her neighbour admitted.

"Well, thank you for trying anyway," Rachel laughed. "I hope she wasn't too energetic,"

"Oh she was no trouble at all," Mrs Ryerson said. "She's been telling me all about Pluto."

Rachel looked back at her daughter, still cradled in her arms.

"Is that right, Little Miss?"

Spencer nodded her head emphatically.

"Pluto has five moons." She announced. "Hydra, Nix, Kerberos, Styx and Charon. Did you know that, Mama?"

Rachel just grinned adoringly and shook her head. "I did not," She chuckled, poking the girl's stomach. "You're too smart for me, Peanut,"

"And me," Mrs Ryerson added, with a broad grin.

"How about you go get into bed and I'll tuck you in, okay?" Rachel offered.

Spencer nodded her head and her mother put her back down on the floor.

After the little girl bounced around the corner, Rachel went to undo her coat. She hadn't even noticed, but her hands, as she undid the buttons— were trembling.

"Are you alright, honey?" the older woman asked. "You look a little spooked…"

Rachel just sighed tiredly and hung her coat over the couch.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just…had a really busy shift." She answered.

She wasn't going to bring up who she'd seen there. She wasn't going to mention Quinn. _Stop thinking about it_ , she scolded herself.

"You know, if you want, I can take Spencer this weekend. Might give you a bit of time to relax?" The woman suggested.

"That's very sweet of you, but I should be okay," Rachel said, with a small smile.

"Well, there's some leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry."

Rachel nodded her head appreciatively. This woman really was a life-saver.

"Thank you so much,"

"No problem, honey. And remember— call me if you need anything."

Mrs Ryerson picked up her purse and made towards the front door.

"I'm going to have you Sainted," Rachel chuckled, leaning against the couch.

Her neighbour just gave a breezy laugh before she said, "Goodnight, dear."

And the door clicked shut.

Rachel padded softly into her daughter's bedroom and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Hey, Sweetie, you warm enough?"

Spencer nodded her head. Rachel pulled the blankets up around her tiny neck.

The eight-year-old played with her fingers for a second before she said, "Mama?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Her mother replied.

"Where do stars go when they die?" Spencer asked, curiously.

"Where do stars go?" Rachel repeated.

"My science teacher said that when a star burns up all its energy it dies, but where does it go after that?"

Rachel considered it for a moment. The intelligence of her daughter's questions never ceased to amaze her.

"Well, I'm not sure," She confessed. "I guess they go to star heaven,"

"Is that like people heaven?"

Rachel smiled softly. "It might be," She said.

"But I don't understand," Spencer whispered. "How can they be there …and then suddenly not be there?"

Rachel waited a moment before answering. She got the feeling that this question was about a lot more than stars.

"I guess they just get older and they get tired," Rachel explained. "And one day, they just… stop. They burn out. But then they make room for a new star."

Spencer nodded her head, as if approving the answer "Do you think they get sad when they die?"

"They might," Rachel wondered. "But if I was a star, I'd be pretty happy that I got to shine up there for everyone on earth to see. Wouldn't you?"

Spencer nodded her head. She blinked her eyes and yawned.

"You better get some sleep, honey. I'll see you in the mourning, okay?"

"Okay. Goodnight, Mama."

Rachel whispered, "Goodnight, Sweetheart."

She watched as her daughter's eyes fluttered closed and her breathing became quiet and regular. Spencer turned on her side and began snoring softly— making soft whistling sounds through her nose. As she drifted to sleep, Rachel traced her finger along the girl's hairline. _No matter what happens, I will always be here for you. I will always protect you. I promise no one will hurt you. No one will walk out on you_ , she vowed.

Rachel blinked and was surprised to find tears sliding down her face. She felt the familiar ache in her chest grow stronger, and she fought the urge to scream out in frustration. _Don't do this_ , she told herself. _Don't do this now_. That part of your life is over. You won't see her or speak to her ever again, she thought.

 _Quinn_.

Rachel closed her eyes as she felt the name echo through her heart.

* * *

J _uly, 2013. 10 years earlier…_

 _It was a bustling Tuesday afternoon. Rachel was studying the script for an upcoming audition in a tiny downtown cafe in West River. The cluttered shop sang a lively babble of breezy conversations. Young couples sat in leather booths, lifting their drinks and chatting jovially through their smiles. It was a clear, fine day. Sunlight blinked off the asphalt outside. Usually she would meet Quinn at the library and they'd walk together through town under the cherry blossoms. But today one of the blonde's classes had run overtime._

 _So Rachel waited patiently at the table. And began, for the hundredth time, to try and memorise her lines for Lady Macbeth. But Rachel was instantly torn from the script as she recognised a certain blonde push through the door, smiling broadly at her. Quinn strolled over to the table, buzzing with excitement._

 _"Hi, babe," She mumbled, kissing her girlfriend briefly on the lips._

 _"Hey," Rachel replied, smiling as Quinn slipped into the chair opposite her._

 _"I hope you don't mind but I already ordered for us. I figured you'd be hungry anyway so I didn't want you to wait." Rachel said, pouring some water into an empty glass._

 _"Oh, sure. No problem." Quinn said._

 _"Did you have a good class today?" Rachel asked, taking in Quinn's chipper expression. "You look like you just won the lottery," She added._

 _"Actually, something pretty big happened today," Quinn said, raking a hand through her blonde hair._

 _"Oh, really? Well, now you have to tell me," She chimed, resting her chin on her knuckles._

 _Quinn dumped her bag down besides her chair and sat up a little in her seat._

 _"My faculty advisor is going to recommend me for the International Justice Program." She beamed, flashing perfect teeth._

 _"Okay, that sounds amazing and I am so impressed, but I don't know what that is…" Rachel chuckled adoringly._

 _"The college board runs this program based in London. It's very elite, but every semester they take a few undergraduates and get them to work in underprivileged communities around the world. They recruit experts in international human rights and ethical law to train them." Quinn explained._

 _"My God, Quinn...That sounds perfect for you. What kind of stuff would you be doing?"_

 _"If I was accepted, I'd basically be working to overturn wrongful convictions of refugees and asylum seekers, doing legal aid and advocacy work…I'd be exposed to all kinds of global justice initiatives and NGOs."_

 _Quinn's smile grew impossibly wide as she spoke, and Rachel felt her heart flutter at the sight. She loved that Quinn was so passionate about her studies. Her eyes lit up every time she talked about her degree._

 _"It's an amazing program, Rach," Quinn gushed. "I actually couldn't believe they wanted me to apply."_

 _"Of course they did! You have an incredible mind, Quinn. I'm so proud of you." She beamed._

 _Rachel reached out across the table and wrapped her fingers around her girlfriend's hand, giving her a look of total admiration._

 _"Although I don't know how I'm going to survive a whole summer without you." Rachel admitted, her chest tightening at the thought of being separated from the blonde._

 _"Actually… that's the thing…" Quinn breathed, unsteadily. "It's not for the summer…"_

 _Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion. "Oh, okay. How long is it then?"_

 _"It's…three years." Quinn said, in a small voice._

 _Rachel's heart instantly stalled. Three years. It can't be. Rachel tried to conjure up in her mind what three years without her girlfriend would even feel like, but she couldn't fathom it. How could she go three years without seeing her smile everyday, without hearing her laugh, without holding her hand like she was right now. No, Rachel thought. She would't survive that._

 _"Rach?" Quinn called."Did you heard what I said?_

 _Rachel looked back at her girlfriend, trying to steady the panic that was spreading through her body like wildfire. She took a slow, shaky breath and forced herself to speak._

 _"Y-Yeah, I heard you, I-I just…" Rachel swallowed thickly. "Three years…" She repeated, as if it was in some foreign language._

 _"And you've already signed up for this?"_

 _"No," Quinn said. "I've just spoken to a couple of the program directors,"_

 _"And what did they say?"_

 _Quinn fiddled nervously with her fingers for a moment before answering._

 _"They said that if my interview goes well, they don't see why I wouldn't be offered a place next term."_

 _Rachel only nodded her head slowly, still struggling to process the blonde's words._

 _"So…how often would you come home?"_

 _"Well, if I get a part-time job there's every chance I could be down each christmas."_

 _"Christmas?" Rachel said, incredulously. "As in once a year? I only get to see you once a year?_ _Are you hearing yourself, Quinn?"_

 _Quinn sighed and started to nod her head dejectedly._

 _"Look, I know it's not an ideal situation—"_

 _"Not an ideal situation?" Rachel cut her off, "It's a fucking terrible situation!"_

 _"Rach, this is one of the most competitive programs in the world. And I've been selected for it! Do you understand that? I can't just pass that up …If I can put this program on my resume I could potentially land a job in any major company in Manhattan before I even graduate. It could shape my whole future!"_

 _"Yeah? And what about me?" Rachel snapped. "Am I in that future?"_

 _The blonde gave her a hurt look._ _"Of course you are," She breathed._

 _"So what am I suppose to do while you're gone? I can't go to London, Quinn, I worked so hard to get into NYADA,"_

 _"I know you did, and I would never ask you to give up your dream, Rach... Just like I can't give up mine."_

 _Quinn gave her a solemn look before they fell into a brief but strained silence. Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing. This mourning she'd woken up thinking, as she always did, that she and Quinn were building their future together; side by side. She pictured them settling down, buying a house, starting a family. Quinn being right there with her— always. Now, she didn't even know if they would be in the same country next month._

 _"Look, I know we can make this work, okay? I mean, I can email you, call you, Skype you—"_

 _"Quinn, we won't even be in the same time zone," Rachel sighed, angrily. "You'll be on the other side of the world, do you get that? It's not like you're moving down the block, is it?"_

 _"I know! I know," Quinn huffed. "I just... I really thought you'd be happy for me."_

 _Rachel almost wanted to laugh in her face._

 _"What is there to be happy about?" She hissed. "You're leaving me!"_

 _"That's not true! Don't say that! God, why are you making this so difficult?"_

 _"What did you think was going to happen, Quinn? That I'd smile and pack your bags for you and watch you fly off to wherever the hell they're sending you for three fucking years! Have you actually thought about what this means? What this will do to our future together? Or is your career more important than that?"_

 _Quinn tensed suddenly, bringing her eyes up to stare the brunette down, hard and defiant._

 _"What the hell does that mean?"_

 _"It means, you jumped into this thing without even consulting me!"_

 _"I'm consulting you now!"_

 _"No, you're not consulting me about it, you're informing me about it. You've made this decision before I even knew it was happening."_

 _Rachel let out a harsh, shaky breath and stood up from the table. She ripped her coat off the back of her chair and shoved her arms into the sleeves._

 _"Why are we even having this conversation?" Rachel snarled. "You've practically already bought your plane ticket…"_

 _"_ _Where are you going?" Quinn said, trying to keep the anger out of her voice._

 _"Home."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"I can't look at you right now," Rachel croaked, grabbing her purse from under her chair._

 _"Rachel, stop. We need to talk about this."_

 _"No, I'm done talking, Quinn."_

 _"All I'm asking for is a little bit of support from you! Is that too much to ask?" Quinn cried._

 _The brunette immediately froze on the spot. Slowly, Rachel turned her head round to stare menacingly at her girlfriend. She looked her straight in the eye. Quinn flinched a little at Rachel's expression but didn't back down._

 _"Don't you dare say that to me…" Rachel warned, darkly. "All I've ever done is support you, Quinn. Everything we've done has been for your dream, your career… I moved to New Haven so I could be close to you, I uprooted my entire life for you, I even bought an apartment three blocks from campus so you wouldn't have to drive every mourning! Do you know that I get three buses everyday to go to NYADA? I travel 4 hours everyday just so I can come home to you at night. So I can have dinner with you, so I can go to sleep beside you. And I never once complained about it because I love you! I love you more than anything in this world, so don't you dare tell me that I don't support you!" Rachel choked, her tears drowning out her voice._

 _Quinn's gaze immediately softened, as her eyes grew glassy and dim._

 _"Rach," She whispered, "Rach, I'm sorry…" The blonde stepped forward and went to take Rachel's hand in her own. But immediately the shorter girl whipped her arm away, as though her skin burned._

 _"Don't touch me." She barked._

 _Quinn looked a little shocked at the outburst, and leaned back slightly._

 _"You need to make a choice, Quinn." Rachel cried._

 _"Wh-what?"_

 _"Either you stay with me or you go on that trip…one or the other."_

 _Quinn gave her a look of pure disbelief._

 _"You can't be serious…"_

 _"I am." Rachel said, wiping furiously at her tears._ _"Maybe that makes me a terrible person but I can't— …I am not going to loose you like this. I'm not going to sit around, twiddling my thumbs while you slip further and further away from me…"_

 _Quinn shook her head desperately, unable to absorb what Rachel was saying._

 _"You can't ask me to make that choice, Rachel," She whispered, breathlessly. "I…I can't do that…."_

 _Tears were cascading down Quinn's face now, she looked so frightened, so distressed that Rachel couldn't breathe for a moment. Then, willing herself to move, she fastened her coat up around her chest and gave the blonde a final look, devoid of emotion._

 _"I think you just did, Quinn…"_

 _And just like that, Rachel turned towards the door._

 _"Rachel!" Quinn's voice rang out behind her. "Rachel, please!" She begged, the pain in her tone made Rachel's heart crack like a fist through ice._

 _"Have a safe flight, Quinn," The brunette wept, and summoning every bit of strength she could find— she pulled the door open and disappeared down the sidewalk._

 **Author's note: Hello again! So here's chapter 2. Thank you very much to everyone whose taken the time to read and/or review. It's a very bizarre concept to me that people actually want to read anything I write, haha. Also,** **I apologise if I haven't responded to all the messages yet (I'm still trying to figure out how to navigate this website). I apologise for any typos/grammar issues with the stuff I've posted so far, I do try my best to edit but sometimes I miss them. Hope you enjoy and thank you again for all the support! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

It was pouring rain as Rachel sprinted along the street after her daughter who was a few metres ahead of her.

"Careful you don't slip, Spence!" She called out.

Spencer bolted down the pavement before slapping her hand against the bus shelter.

"I won!" She declared. "You were too slow, Mom."

Rachel trailed over to her daughter, breathing heavily.

"Ok… you won," Rachel panted. "I'm too old and decrepit."

"What's decrepit?" Spencer asked.

"It's someone who's worn out and tired because of their age," Rachel chuckled.

The brunette glanced at her watch. _9:06_. She had to get Spencer to her rehearsal in twenty minutes, she noted— silently praying that they hadn't already missed the bus. Sure enough, Rachel spotted bright yellow headlights sweeping round the corner.

"Okay, that's our bus," Rachel said, motioning to the oncoming vehicle.

As the bus slowed to a halt, the two of them climbed aboard, hand-in-hand.

"Hello, Sir!" Spencer beamed at the bus driver.

The man turned to Spencer, slightly alarmed.

"Well…hello there, Miss." He said, tipping his hat down.

Rachel grinned at her daughter and they moved slowly down the aisle. The doors whirred shut as the engine rumbled to life again.

"Make sure you hold on, Sweetie…" Rachel said, grabbing the railing.

Strangely enough, they were the only ones on the bus. Not that the brunette was that surprised — most people tended to avoid the buses that ran through the sketchier neighbourhoods.

"Sit down here, Spence," Rachel said, pointing to a seat behind the driver.

The bus swayed and rocked rhythmically on its turns, heading South along the pier.

"Can you drive a bus, Mama?"

"Me? No, Sweetie," Rachel said. "You have to have a special license,"

"What about a spaceship?"

Rachel shook her head playfully at Spencer's question.

"No, I definitely don't have a spaceship license." She laughed.

"A submarine?"

"Nope,"

"A tank?"

Rachel chuckled.

"I'm afraid I can't drive anything cool," She confessed.

Spencer looked a little disappointed.

"But then we wouldn't survive if were in that movie…you know, where the guy has to drive the bus really fast or the bomb will explode!" Spencer ranted.

Rachel thought for a moment before laughing.

"You mean, ' _Speed'_?"

"Yeah!" Spencer chirped, "I liked that movie."

"That's a secret, remember?" Rachel chuckled. "Your teachers can't know you watched that film."

Spencer's forehead creased up as she frowned.

"Why not?"

"They might get angry," Rachel explained.

"Why?"

"Cause you're little— I'm not meant to let you watch action movies." Her mother said.

"I'm not little," Spencer retorted.

Rachel just grinned lovingly at the girl and planted a kiss on top of her head.

"No, you're not really, are you..." Rachel said, adoringly.

They sat in silence for a while as they barrelled along the road.

Then, in a few minutes, Rachel noticed a curious yowling sound coming from the front of the bus.

Spencer looked at her mother.

"What's that noise?" Her daughter asked.

Rachel shrugged her shoulders as the bus slowed a little, then suddenly stopped. The driver stood from his seat and wobbled out the door onto the wet pavement. Rachel peered out the window to get a better view but all she could see was the rain crashing down in thick sheets against the window. Promptly, the man shuffled back inside the bus and wiped his eyes.

"Is everything okay?" Rachel asked.

He looked at her. "Engineering difficulties," He said, shrugging. "Where are you folks headed?"

"Downtown." Rachel replied.

The man just nodded before he picked up a small radio device beside the steering wheel.

"Hello? This is CL338 calling. My bus broke down near the pier. I have passengers with me on route downtown. Please check and see if there are services to pick up the passengers. Thank you."

The man placed the radio back down again and dialled a different number. "Hi, I need a tow… Around Davidson's Pier… How long of a wait? My number is 91546. Make it quick please."

"What's happened to the bus?" Rachel asked him.

He shook his head apologetically.

"We've blown a gasket," The man explained.

He turned back to the radio and held it to his ear. Rachel heard a voice chattering over the line. The man turned the radio off and glanced back at Rachel.

"There's no service available," He said.

"Could you try again?"

"The buses who respond may require a surcharge,"

"How much?" Rachel said.

"This is out of their way. An extra fifty would be my guess."

Rachel winced slightly at that. _There goes the money for my phone bill_ , she thought.

"If that's what it takes," She sighed.

"The passenger will pay extra." The man said into the phone.

After a few moments of static garble over the intercom, the man gave her a sorry look.

"Still nothing," He said.

"What about a taxi?" Rachel wondered aloud.

The man titled his head. "You can try— but with the storm out there it'll probably be a good hour before they respond," He said. "You have any friends in this area to pick you up?"

"No." Rachel confessed.

"Well, maybe you know someone with a car who can drive here?"

Rachel sighed. The only person she knew with a car was Maya, a girl she waitressed with. And she was in Nebraska for the week. Then suddenly she remembered the business card still in her back pocket. _No way_ , the voice in her head screamed. _You are not calling her. You'll just have to miss it._

"Mama," Spencer said, "am I going to miss rehearsal?"

Rachel crumbled a little at the worry in her daughter's voice.

"No… you're not, honey," Rachel assured. "I promise, I'll get you there."

And clenching her teeth, she pulled out the business card from her pocket. Even though she'd seen it before, she still faltered reading the name:

MISS QUINN FABRAY: ATTORNEY AT LAW.

 _Just do it,_ she thought. _Do it and get it over with. The worse she can say is 'no'._ Rachel sighed. And in a moment of insanity, or sheer desperation— she dialled the number on the card. The line rang out three times before someone picked up.

"Hello?" Quinn's voice answered.

"Quinn." Rachel stated, swallowing the lump in her throat.

There was a notable pause on the end of the line before Quinn said, "Rachel?"

"Yes…um, it's me…Listen, I'm sorry to call you when you're at work." She sighed.

 _This was already excruciating._

"No, no, it's no trouble at all." Quinn said. "How are you?"

"Well, actually I, um…I called to ask you for a favour…"

Rachel cringed at the words. She hated the thought of asking the blonde for anything. After all, it's not like they were friends. Friends generally didn't vanish out of each others lives for a decade.

"Okay," Quinn said, patiently.

"Um…you have a car, right?"

"Yes."

"It's just that, uh…the bus I'm on has…has broken down." She explained, nervously. "Obviously I wouldn't usually ask, but I'm running late for something important and…" Rachel shut her eyes tightly.

Maybe she could rent a bike and cycle through the rain with Spencer on her back. That might be the less painful option, she thought glumly.

"I was wondering, if there might be any chance you could…you could pick me up?" She finished.

There was a short buzz over the line.

"I wouldn't ask if there was any other option," Rachel added, quickly.

"No, I— of course I'll pick you up. " Quinn said, "Where abouts are you?"

Rachel felt both relief and panic flood through her at the same time.

"The corner of Mason and Swan street."

"Alright," Quinn said.

"I'll see you in ten minutes,"

And just as she heard the blonde about to hang up she forced herself to speak—

"Oh and Quinn…" Rachel stuttered, finding it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. "My…my daughter's here too," She croaked, in a tiny voice.

Because how else could she say it? She didn't want Quinn to turn up and get the fright of her life when a random eight-year-old tried to climb into her car.

"Is that…okay?" Rachel breathed, paralysed with fear.

There was only the clicking and humming of the phone line as the blonde went silent for a few seconds. Perhaps she hadn't heard her correctly? Or perhaps she _had_ heard and simply didn't know what to say? But just as the thought occurred she heard Quinn's voice:

"Yes, of course, Rachel." She said. "That's fine."

"Okay…I'll see you," Rachel said, and the line went dead.

The brunette leaned down and looked at her daughter.

"Are we still going to rehearsal, Mom?" Spencer asked, hopefully.

"Yes, honey. Someone's going to pick us up and drop us there, okay?"

"Who?"

Rachel took a deep breath. "An old friend of Mommy's," She said. "her name's Quinn,"

* * *

Rachel and Spencer stood on the curb, trying to take shelter under one of the overhanging trees by the bus stop. The rain was pelting down, Rachel could feel it soaking through her jacket. _Of all days to forget an umbrella._

Shortly, a Volkswagen pulled up alongside the curb. It was a navy blue model that looked practically brand new, as if it had never been driven.

Quinn leaned over the passenger seat and the window rolled down.

"Hi," Rachel murmured.

"Hey," Quinn said.

Rachel wasn't sure whether to sit in the front seat next to Quinn or the back. But since she probably should be with Spencer she opted for the backseat. She helped her daughter into the car and then strapped her in.

"Thanks for doing this, Quinn." Rachel murmured.

"No problem," She said. "I'm sorry you had to wait in the rain,"

Once everyone was safely inside, Quinn pulled out from the sidewalk and onto the main road.

"Here, you can dry yourself off with this," The blonde said, handing Rachel a towel.

Rachel took the towel and wiped some of the water from her face.

"Quinn, this is Spencer…" Rachel said, cautiously.

"Hi Spencer," Quinn greeted, smiling at the little girl though the rearview mirror.

Spencer perked up a bit. "Hello, Miss Quinn…"

The lawyer instantly smiled at the name. Rachel smiled too.

"You can call me just Quinn, if you like." She said.

Spencer gave a mischievous smirk.

"Okay, Just Quinn," She giggled, and Quinn laughed— suddenly and brightly. After not hearing that sound in ten years— the effect was like hearing music for the first time. It made Rachel's heart race.

"So, where are you two headed?"

"Do you know the community theatre on Bleeker Street?" Rachel asked.

The blonde nodded her head.

"It's my rehearsal for the school play!" Spencer piped.

"Really?" Quinn said, excitedly. "Well, we can't have you missing that."

Spencer giggled again and the conversation tapered off. Quinn focused on the road and turned onto the highway. Rachel watched the way her hands gripped the steering wheel, turning it in long, elegant sweeping motions.

 _Great. Even the way she drives is perfect,_ Rachel thought.

To make matters worse— the car reeked of the blonde's fragrant perfume. The sweetness of it and every single memory attached to it hit her in waves. The smell conjured up images of Sunday mournings spent with Quinn nestled into her chest, of the music they had danced to, the parties they'd held hands at and the nights Rachel had held her as they slept. It all flickered painfully through her brain like an old film.

Once they turned down the familiar street, Rachel spoke up: "Just here is fine,"

They rolled up beside the pavement and Rachel undid her seatbelt.

"Here, let me help you with your bag," Quinn said.

Before Rachel could protest, the blonde was outside her door. She slowly lifted Rachel's bag off the backseat. Rachel stumbled out of the car and helped Spencer clamber out onto the sidewalk. She paused beside the car for a moment.

"Listen, Quinn…I really appreciate you helping me out today. Spencer would've been devastated if we'd missed rehearsal." She said, sincerely.

"It's no problem." Quinn replied.

"Well… bye then." She offered, lamely.

"Wait—" Quinn said, stepping towards the brunette.

Rachel looked back at her.

"Why don't I hang around here for a bit? I can take you both home after the rehearsal. Save you catching the bus."

Rachel hesitated for a moment, a little surprised that Quinn had even offered, she imagined a defence attorney had a million better things to do than chauffeur an eight-year-old around.

"Quinn, I don't want to hold you up from your work, I'm sure you're busy so—"

"It's no trouble. I was only doing paperwork anyway, nothing important." Quinn assured her.

"Quinn can watch me in the play, Mama!" Spencer yipped.

Rachel looked between Spencer and Quinn, as if unsure of something.

"Well…if you'd like to." Rachel supposed.

Quinn just nodded her head gently and followed Rachel into the theatre.

 **Author's note: I am just churning out chapters for this! You all must think I have no life (which is 100% accurate). Thank you so much again to everyone whose read/reviewed/messaged, I'm very grateful for your support! I certainly didn't anticipate such a huge response (most things I write I just re-read and think 'was I drunk when I wrote this?!' so it's amazing that people don't think it's total trash.**

 **Also, I know this story is set in Indiana but I've just made up street names and places because I don't know anything about American geography (I live in Australia) so please forgive me if its not very accurate. For any of you wanting to know, the story's going to go more into the past and all the things that have happened to the characters during their separation - 'Shit's gonna get real dramatic!'**

 **Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the new chapter! I'll post again soon, (as in, probably tomorrow) haha. Take care! xox**


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